Safe In Each Other's Arms
by gwenstacys
Summary: A year after the deaths of Wendla and Moritz, Melchior and Ilse meet at their once favorite tree and share their regrets.


Melchior missed her. He missed her familiar laugh and her eyes gazing into his for what seemed like a lifetime. He missed having her tell him about God, and everything she believed in. He missed her acceptance of everything he believed in, even if she didn't agree. Most of all he missed her touch, so sweet and gentle, and the way she made him feel. Like maybe what he was doing wasn't a waste - it was all worth it. She inspired him to carry on, even when it seemed impossible. He did carry on. Unlike Moritz. He regretted not spending more time with Moritz towards the end, though he hadn't the slightest idea that he was hurting. He regretted not asking. Maybe if he would have asked, he would have saved his life. These regrets were felt often, especially sitting under the oak tree they all used to play under.

It was a warm, bright, summer day, exactly a year after Wendla's passing. He promised that he would visit their favorite place on this day, no matter how difficult it was for him. It had gotten easier over the past twelve months or so, after countless hours sitting in that Church praying to a God he didn't even believe in, and talking to what friends he had left. Most of them didn't understand how he was feeling - what he was feeling - and didn't quite know how to act around him anymore. The only person who truly understood was Ilse. Beautiful, outspoken Ilse who had lost everyone close to her in a matter of a few years. He sent her a letter asking her to meet him there in hopes of finding out if she felt the same way as he after all this time, so when he looked up to see her walking towards him, he allowed himself to smile (which was something he didn't do often). "Ilse!" He jumped up, grinning wildly. She looked different from the last time he saw her, which was Moritz's funeral. Her long, red curls were cut short and uneven, giving her the appearance of someone wildly bohemian. She was wearing the same dress she wore to the funeral, the green one the same shade as her eyes, but without the rips and tears. "Its been awhile, I'm so glad you came." He pulled her in for a hug, unsure of whether or not that was appropriate, but it felt right in that moment.

"Melchior, of course I came." Her voice was quieter than he remembered, and she looked surprised at Melchior's attempt at a hug - he never was one for showing affection.

"I have to admit I wasn't entirely sure you would. After all, most of us haven't seen you since, well, the funeral. You kind of disappeared after that." She nodded, setting herself down on the grass, her legs crossed as if she were a child, motioning for him to sit next to her.

"I had to get out of there. I could barely even look at his father, when I did I felt a uncontrollable amount of rage and hurt inside of me. Going to that funeral... seeing Moritz de-" Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, trying not to break. It was too early for that. "It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I felt so much guilt in the days following, Melchior... it haunted me."

"I don't understand.. what would you have to feel guilty about, Ilse? You were always such a good friend to Moritz, and he hadn't seen you in quite awhile so it's not like you had any effect on what he did." Ilse shook her head, frustrated with both herself and Melchior.

"I was there, Melchior. I was there with him just minutes before he.. killed himself. I had come back to visit my sister and was going for a walk when I noticed him in the clearing, the one out near his house. He looked so alone and so scared.. it worried me. He said I had frightened him when he noticed me, so he must have been in a anxious state, that's for sure. His words were shaken when he spoke, and when I told him about what I had been up to I could tell he was distracted. Though I couldn't tell if he was thinking about what I was telling him or something entirely different - I think it may have been a bit of both. He looked at me sympathetically, and somewhat longingly. It felt nice to be near him again, and have him look at me in that way. I asked him if he.. remembered when we used to play Pirates when we were kids, him, you, Wendla and I. He grew very pale and quietly answered that he did. I told him that I missed that, I missed when we were young and didn't have a care in the world, and I missed all of us being together. He was quiet for awhile, until I asked him to walk me home. He looked frightened, not because of me but of something on his mind. He obviously knew what he was going to do after I left, so our talk didn't make any difference at all, I didn't... I didn't help him..." Melchior leaned over and put his arm over Ilse, reassuring her that it was okay. He couldn't stand seeing people cry, not anymore.

"Hey hey..." He coaxed quietly, encouraging her to continue. "You didn't know what he was planning on doing, you had no idea. I'm sure you made a difference Ilse... he at least knew, before he.. left that he was loved. He was loved by you, and he knew that. That must have been so important to him."

"I suppose you're right but... I can't help thinking about what I could have done to save him. If I had only known, maybe I could have talked him out of it. If I asked him to go with me at least one more time, or stayed with him as long I could... maybe things would be different. If I had only known, maybe I could have pretended all of this from happening."

"Ilse, none of those things matter now. You did everything that you possibly could without knowing the real problem - you let him know that you still thought of him. That was something he didn't believe near the end - that people thought of him. I know he must have believed you, though. He cared so much for you, Ilse. He was in love with you ever since we were kids." Ilse raised her head to look at Melchior, wiping her eyes wit h the edge of her hand.

"He was? He never told me his feelings..." She spoke quietly, remembering all of her days spent with Moritz and how secretive he was. He never did tell her that he liked her as more than a friend, even when they would spend every afternoon running around, playing pirates, feeling like nothing could ever hurt them and nothing bad could ever happen. All that mattered was those moments, those little, precious moments that while sometimes unforgettable are sometimes also the most important. We often take those for granted.

"Yes, he was. Moritz was never the type for being open about his feelings, especially when it came to girls he was always embarrassed at the subject, but for years I listened to him talk about how wonderful he found you. 'Ilse is the most beautiful girl I've ever laid my eyes on,' he would say. He always meant to tell you, but would get scared and back away as soon as he felt he was ready to. I guess afterall he just figured you would catch on eventually, but I guess you never did. That's not your fault though, even I didn't understand Moritz sometimes." Melchior gazed around him at the orange and red leaves falling from the trees, slowly but steadily to the ground, just to lay there and never be admired again. "Moritz was kind of like that, like those leaves." He motioned to them and Ilse gave him a questionable smile.

"Melchior that sounds crazy. How is Moritz like a leaf?"

"Well, leaves are generally green in the spring and summer, right? All is right with them - people admire them, they don't fall off the trees as often, their color is perfect.. but really they have their faults. People take advantage of their shade, small children pick them off and rip them apart, they're useless when the tree they're on is cut down... then autumn comes. Like it is now, that's when everything changes. Their color fades to dull browns, reds, and oranges, and they start to lose their appeal. They fall off of their trees, slowly falling, falling, falling down to the ground. Then what are they? They're nothing. They have no more use and they will sweep away with the wind, never to be admired or thought of again. It kind of makes you think, 'what's the point? Why are they there at all?' I think Moritz saw his life in that way. Parts of it were good, the artificial parts when he received praise and felt like he was actually loved and needed. But when the unfortunate twists of life and fate settle in, everything changes and nothing is okay anymore. It seems like nothing will ever be okay again. I think he had gotten to the point where he felt like he was no longer needed, no longer loved - especially by his father, who was disappointed in him more than a father ever should be in his son. He felt like he no longer had a purpose, and knew that at some point he would have to fall. Slowly but steadily, never to be thought of again."

"Do you think Wendla ever felt like that?" Melchior tried to smile, not wanting to seem weak in front of Ilse.

"No, I don't suppose she ever did. Wendla knew she was loved, I don't think it would ever be possible for someone to not like such a kind, caring soul like herself. It probably would have been easy for people to take advantage of her, she was so forgiving and trustworthy afterall, but they didn't. They couldn't. She made people feel like they could be better than they were, but didn't make them feel bad about themselves. She was special in that way."

"She sure was." Ilse gave a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze Melchior's hand. She knew it hurt him to talk about Wendla, but it was also good for him to let out what he had kept to himself for so long. "Do you miss her terribly? As much as I miss Moritz?"

He nodded, squeezing her hand back and giving the slightest half-grin. "Yes I do, more than that - if possible. You know, I never really talked about it until just a few months ago, when Otto brought it up. He asked me how I had been doing because I hadn't seen a lot of them for awhile.. I had been keeping to myself.. and I lied. I lied to one of my good friends, telling him that everything was okay when it wasn't. I tried to tell him that I still hadn't completely recovered from losing Wendla, especially after not talking about it for so long, but I choked up and felt like breaking down, right there in front of him. I felt so weak, so helpless, even though I shouldn't have been." Ilse nodded, understanding completely. "Hey... do you ever find yourself.. feeling Moritz's presence? Maybe doing something you both used to enjoy, or in the scent of pipe weed and hay, or even when hearing his name?"

"I feel him often. Most of all at night, when I'm lying in the bed of whoever I had to stay with that night, usually all alone. I like to think I can feel his arms wrapped around me tight, holding and protecting me while I sleep. Sometimes it's as if I can actually feel his touch. It helps me, you know. I had trouble sleeping at night for months - I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming as if someone was hurting me, or I would cry myself to sleep. But imagining him there made me feel safe, more calm... like nothing had changed. Even if just a little while." She sighed, letting go of Melchior's hand, giving it a pat, and crossing her arms around her waist as if to cradle herself, looking a bit shaken. "What about you? Do certain things remind you of Wendla?"

"Everything reminds me of her, Ilse. An afternoon rainshower, fresh hay in our barn, the Church, this tree.. a child's laugh!" He raised his voice, talking quickly, and throwing his arms up. "I can't get her out of my mind, no matter where I turn. I still.. I still hear her heartbeat. I hear it everywhere I go, every second of every day. Sometimes I still feel like I can feel her, like you with Moritz. I can remember her touch as if it were just yesterday, and the stillness of her breath when I would lean in to kiss her.. the warmth we would both feel when I held her close..." He shook his head as if trying to clear the thoughts from his mind, though of course he couldn't no matter how hard he tried. "For months I asked myself whether or not I made the right choices, and if I should have done everything differently, or nothing at all. I've thought about it more than what's probably considered healthy, but I've come to the conclusion that I don't regret my time spent with Wendla. I don't regret our experience together, not at all. If loving someone and caring about them with your whole heart, more than you've ever cared about anyone before, is wrong? Then let it be. Let what we had be considered wrong, I don't care. No matter what anyone says when my back is turned.. I know they all whisper as soon as I leave, or when they think I can't hear them. They think that I didn't actually love her, that I let my emotions and my hormones take control of me and make my decisions for me. They didn't, Ilse. I can say that with more honesty than I could say anything else - I loved her. I was prepared to take her away, spend my life with her..." He swallowed, glancing at Ilse to make sure he didn't say anything to make her uncomfortable or offend her. He didn't. "I'm sure you and Moritz could have had a beautiful life together. Running about, playing pirates, painting each other and being free. You had a chance, even if just for awhile. I sincerely hope that you sleep well tonight, Ilse. That the demons of our pasts won't scare you, and you'll feel Moritz there, holding you close and keeping you safe. I don't want you to feel any regrets, and I know... I know I shouldn't either. We both did what we felt was right in those moments, and we can't take them back as much as we'd want to. What happened has happened, Ilse. There's no use carrying on about what could have been, even if what could have been had so much potential. I fear that we must.. carry on with our lives. We won't forget Wendla and Moritz, I know that, and I don't want to. But we must carry on the right way, the way we were meant to. With them in our hearts and our minds, and not haunting our dreams or living hours. They wouldn't want us to feel like this. They wouldn't want us to feel like we couldn't move on, or like it was our fault when it really wasn't." Melchior stood up, brushing the dirt from his pants. "It has taken me so long to realize that." Ilse stood up after him, with the help of Melchior's hand, both of them allowing themselves to smile at each other.

"Thank you, Melchior. I appreciate everything you said more than I could say. I have to admit, when my sister gave me the letter about you wanting me to meet you here today, I was worried. I didn't want to face what I've been trying to avoid the past year, but I'm glad I did. I know that we can't keep carrying on as we have been, and Moritz.. and Wendla.. will always be with me, always with _us_ in spirit. They would have wanted that, huh?"

"Yes, I think they would have. I'm glad you came too, Ilse. Very much so." Ilse stared at him for a moment, taking in his disorderly clothes, familiar, striking blue eyes, and the smile of someone who was just learning how to again.

"Melchior?"

"... yes Ilse?"

"Would you walk me home? And maybe.. if it's no trouble.. stay the night with me? I know that's too much to ask, and I really shouldn't be asking but.. I just feel like I might feel a little bit safer with you there." She sighed helplessly, throwing her arms to her sides. Melchior was surprised at her request, but grinned, offering his hand.

"I would be honored to be your Moritz tonight, miss Ilse. We can even play pirates like we used to. You can even wear Wendla's headdress." Ilse broke into a grin herself, gladly taking his hand.

"I would love to, Melchior. Oh God would I."

As they interlocked fingers and continued down the pathway beside the creek that led to Ilse's house, they felt for the first time in a year that emptiness inside of them start to fill, even if just for a moment. A little, precious moment.


End file.
